The Adventures of Ranger Swan and the Wolf
by inkcrane
Summary: A multi-chaptered Red Swan story that takes place in Fairytale Land. Emma and Red survive the sack of the kingdom and must save it from the grasp of the White Witch of Charn.
1. Run Fast for Your Mother

Living in the castle made this sort of thing difficult, but Emma never minded whenever the door to the little cabin closed and Red backed her onto the bed. Her parents knew by now that she and the tall brunette were definitely more than just friends, something that carried over after the curse on Storybrooke broke. She called her "Ruby" there, and initially, learning to call her Red rather than that name presented something of a challenge, but the blonde got over it quickly. These visits to a cabin a day and a half's ride away from the castle became a habit for the pair. Red didn't much care for court life, and after spending most of her years in the land without magic, Emma found the adjustment somewhat uncomfortable as well. The idea of royalty never even crossed her mind, let alone how to behave as an actual princess. Once in a while, she needed _out_. No one asked questions when the two women picked up and left for a while every so often. Running to this cabin was more than just sex, even though that was obviously the only thing on Red's mind as soon as they crossed the threshold of the little house.

It wasn't like they _couldn't_ do this in the palace, but rather Emma felt a little strange about it. Her parents were sweet, and generally people accepted the fact that she loved Red, but having loud sex in her room down the damned hallway from her parents in a palace constantly filled with people always felt a little rude. The palace still didn't feel like home to her, and so it felt a little like having sex while a guest in someone else's house. Odd. Awkward. Red didn't seem to mind the situation like Emma did, but at least respected the blonde's space when she pushed her away or stopped things before they got too far. Frustrating, sure, but Red could wait. It usually meant that they spent the entire first day in the cabin in bed or at least in various states of undress, and this was no exception. Usually when they arrived, they started a fire and dug out candles before impatience finally won and they landed in bed, but this time, Red physically insisted on foregoing their usual order despite the chill and the snow that fell heavily outside. Part of Emma wanted to stop this and perform the necessary housekeeping-variety tasks before they became too distracted, but the brunette's mouth on her pulse instantly silenced those thoughts. The pair left a trail of snow-dampened clothes all the way to the bedroom and finally crashed onto the bed entirely undressed.

The first time was rough and fierce, all needy kisses and nips that nearly broke the skin. Red didn't give Emma what she wanted until the blonde practically screamed, entire body quaking with anticipation under Red's, and the princess returned the favor in much the same fashion. The second time, the pair slowed down as they tried to pull every ounce of pleasure from each other's bodies. Red's fingers brought Emma to an orgasm that spread through her body with a gentle warm sensation, and the feeling persisted as one final thrust of the blonde's fingers tipped the brunette over the edge as well. It left the pair in a tangle of blankets and hair plastered to sweaty bodies, sated and content. They dozed on and off in this fashion until the sun went down, Red on her back with Emma's head at the junction of her shoulder and her upper chest. Thoughts came and went through the blonde's head fleetingly and she didn't even attempt to hold onto them for more than a few seconds, though the idea that they probably should have started a fire lingered long enough to force her a little further under the blankets with a weak shiver. Their bodies cooled and so did the cabin, and after a while, the two curled into each other and attempted to sleep despite the chill felt even through the topmost down comforter. Emma finally succumbed to sleep with her face buried in Red's neck, unbothered by the blanket of glossy, brown curls that stuck to the sweat on her shoulders. If she could live the rest of her life like this rather than as a princess in a castle, she would do it in a heartbeat.

Hours later, Emma awoke when the brunette under her started to fidget. In the course of the night, she rolled onto her side and had her back to the window where moonlight streamed through the middle of the shutters. She cracked open a blue eye and moved her head slightly to peer up at Red, whose eyes fully open eyes stared intently at the window.

"Go to sleep," she slurred into the skin of the woman's collarbone. Red only sighed stiffly in response. Emma pressed her lips to the woman's skin and closed her eyes again in hopes of drifting to sleep. Once more, the tall brunette moved uncomfortably, jarring Emma awake again. This time, Red lifted her head to watch something through the small split in the shutters, and Emma moaned childishly when the shift disrupted her comfortable sleeping position.

"Red," she admonished, and the owner of the name dropped her head to the pillow and wrapped her arms around the blonde. Satisfied, Emma tucked her head into its original place below the other's chin, but it didn't last long before something grabbed Red's attention strongly enough to force her off the bed slightly. She leaned on one elbow, staring at the window, and Emma slid off her chest to the bed with a displeased whine.

"Gods be damned, Red," she swore, "can't you pander to your dog-senses in the morning?" Emma stared up at the woman's face to see if the scolding got her anywhere, but it was like Red hadn't even heard her. In attempt to force Red to pay attention, Emma pulled a hand out from under the warm blankets and touched the woman's face with her fingertips, only to have her hand pushed away as Red crawled over her to the window. Emma grunted audibly as the woman practically ran her over to get to the object of her interest and rolled over to watch her. Even though frustration and annoyance burned through her tired body, she couldn't help but trace the lines the dim moonlight made on Red's skin. The way it outlined her bare shoulders and touched stray strands of hair softened the irritation of being rudely awoken and ignored.

"Come back to bed," Emma pleaded softly, but Red paid her no heed her once more. Emma frowned deeply. "Red. Hey, _Rubes_, you realize you're ignoring a naked woman in your bed telling you to get the hell over here, right?" Nothing. Emma grunted again and covered her hands with her face, defeated. Completely and utterly incorrigible, that one. What happened next, Emma couldn't have predicted if her life depended on it.

"Get up," Red urged. She'd crossed the room from the window to the bed in a bound and started to physically roust her lover. Now even more irritated by the fact Red insisted she enter the cold air outside their tangled nest of blankets, Emma grabbed the other woman's arms and held her still.

"Red, _why_. What's going on?" she demanded. Red simply stared at her, jaw set and expression grave. Emma thought she caught a flicker of gold pass through her eyes in the pale light and instantly did as the brunette asked. Something was wrong. She released the other and slid out of bed. The two collected their clothes and dressed, and the blonde kept silent until Red peered through a crack in another window to watch something. Emma walked nervously to her side and slipped an arm around her waist, concerned. Whatever had her attention, it scared the woman enough to want to run in the middle of the night. She opened her mouth to inquire, but the brunette grabbed her wrist and they plunged into the frigid snowfall outside.

"Red, seriously, what-" Emma stopped short and stared in the direction of the palace and the village that surrounded it. From here, they certainly couldn't see any of the buildings because of distance and tree cover, but the brilliant orange glow against the otherwise dark blue and black sky was unmistakeable. It burned.

"No," Emma breathed.

"You have to get out," Red said finally. Her grip on Emma's wrist tightened and they walked towards the tiny stable that housed their horses. Red grabbed the princess's saddle and rushed to place it on the back of Emma's big gray mare before she made quick work of the girth. Next came the bridle. Before Emma could protest, she thrust the loose reins into the blonde's hands and headed to her own horse's stall. This time she bypassed both saddle and bridle and simply placed a hand midway between the animal's muzzle and eyes as she lead it outside, trailed by a perplexed Emma and her mare. The look on her face was like a punch to the stomach for the blonde. The bay gelding was steadfast and fearless, the only horse in the stable who didn't cower at Red's presence when they first bought him at a local livestock auction. The brunette always said she hated horses because they gave her problems, but she'd grown attached to this one. She was saying goodbye. A moment later, she slid her hand off the horse's face and he trotted away without hesitation. Red simply watched with hands limp at her side and shoulders sagging. Only seconds passed before she whirled and pushed Emma towards the gray mare's side towards the saddle.

"Get out," she instructed firmly, "You need to run." Emma looked towards the orange and gold aura and tightened her jaw.

"I have to go, my parents are there!" she snapped. Red grabbed her upper arms with such ferocity that it actually scared the blonde.

"I said _get out_," Red repeated at a low growl and placed her face an inch from the other woman's. Stubborn and determined, Emma shook her head and wrenched her arms away from the brunette.

"Red, we-they-" She stumbled over her words, which only intensified her frustration. Emma pounded the air once with her fists, unable to express the feeling in any other way. "Most of my family is there, the only family I've ever known! And you expect me to _run_? To just turn my back on them?"

"Yes!" The brunette roared, and a tear slipped down her face. "Emma, your family's kingdom is _burning_. If your family isn't dead, they-whomever did this-has them. And as much as you don't want to admit it, you are a princess. You are a _thing_ to be used as a pawn. You need to get out of here." The distraught written across her face contrasted oddly with her sharp tone. Taken aback, Emma simply watched as Red wrapped up her red cloak and tied it to the back of the saddle on the horse's back before she returned to Emma.

"I am no one," she said, and raised a hand for silence when the other woman opened her mouth to protest. "You are a princess. I am, to them, no one. You need to run, to survive this." Red now stood close enough to Emma to place her hands on both sides of the woman's face. Their hips touched and she placed a gentle kiss on the woman's lips. When she drew away, she placed her forehead against the blonde's and forced a small smile.

"You remember the stories your parents tell?" she asked sweetly. Emma's lips parted and her brows knit. This wasn't happening. "_I will always find you_, they say. I will find you, Emma."

The blonde raised her hands to the Red's and curled her fingers around them. She squeezed them tightly and closed her eyes. The kingdom burned, they probably hunted her, and Red told her they needed to part. Too fast. This was all too fast.

The brunette pulled away and started down the hill at a jog, leaving Emma to watch her back as she left. The blonde climbed into the saddle, shaking almost too hard to pull herself up. For a moment she watched, and for a second, Red stopped and turned. Emma swore she caught the reflection of gold in her eyes before the woman melted into a wolf and raced towards the blaze. Everything she knew ended that night.


	2. Cold

Emma thought within a couple days, she'd spot her large, dark brown wolf bounding through the snow-covered underbrush of the forest, none the worse for wear after their flight from the cabin. A few days stretched into a week and a half, however, and the blonde began to lose faith. Snow fell almost constantly in that time and only allowed the woman and her horse perhaps a day's reprieve total. For a while, Emma directed her steed out of the forest in search of easier footing and a means of visual navigation across the kingdom, but beyond the protection of the enormous trees, the wind whipped cruelly, which forced the pair into the trees again. The wind didn't penetrate the woods when they traveled deep enough, but even still, the scent of burned wood was unmistakeable. In fact, one day, Emma watched helplessly as ash fell with the snow, and it took all the willpower in the world to keep her thoughts from drifting to the worse. Did they kill Red? Her family? Their kingdom? What about Regina or the dwarves? The woman chewed her bottom lip in thought and inhaled deeply, worried. Able to sense her companion's distress, the large mare below her loosed a half-hearted hop of a buck, which effectively wrenched the blonde's mind to the present.

Emma tugged the reins and the horse came to a stiff halt. She didn't even know where she wanted to go except that it needed to be away from what she'd come to call home over the past two years. She likened summers here to those in Boston or perhaps slightly farther south, but winters here were certainly more mild than those in Maine. This one everyone told her was an exception, however. It snowed a lot, yes, but never like this. Temperatures remained bitterly low, and Emma ached for Storybrooke's variety of heated buildings or that realm's winter clothing. Here, she shivered beneath two cloaks (she'd pulled Red's on under her own in vain attempt to keep warm), and her fingers felt stiff and frozen in her leather gloves. Some days she swore the snow that threatened to bury both horse and rider would turn to ice and stick her to the seat of her saddle. Eventually, legs stiff from cold refused to bend to allow her into the saddle, and so from that day forward, she led the equally cold and exhausted gray mare through the forest on foot.

Nights were no better. Fear of discovery meant absolutely no fires at night, even though every fiber of Emma's being wanted nothing more than to stick herself so close to an open flame that it burned her skin. It also meant she couldn't really cook anything she managed to kill with her bow and arrows. Twice she lit a fire during the day and cooked everything she could find and then rationed the meat to eat later, but as soon as she finished, she dumped enough snow on the fire to smother even smoke. The mare survived somehow, too. Emma saw her scrape through the snow a few times and nibble at whatever leaf litter she found there, and occasionally while they walked, the mare lipped hibernating buds from otherwise sparse-looking branches. They managed, however uncomfortably. Emma took to sleeping curled up against a tree, or better, her horse's stomach when the mare occasionally laid down for the evening. She always awoke the next morning miserable, tired, and frozen, and this one was no different. The mare's leg twitched and her body moved, which instantly woke Emma. The blonde mourned the loss of the animal's warm body as she crawled away from the horse as the beast rolled. If she weren't so busy hating everything else, Emma would have been annoyed. With a huff and a grunt, the big horse rolled until she got to her feet and then shook excess snow off her coat furiously. With shaking arms, Emma managed to lift the saddle onto the horse's back and then loosely buckled the girth so as not to bother the mare while she walked. She slipped a hand out of her glove and with a wince, she closed her fingers around the searinly cold steel of the bit. If it hurt her hand to touch, she couldn't imagine sticking it in the horse's mouth until it warmed somewhat. After weather and metal leeched most of the warmth from her hand, she coaxed the bridle onto the gray horse's head, took the reins, and began another day of trudging through thick snow and hidden roots. For probably an hour they walked before the blonde heard footsteps from somewhere nearby. Largely, the snow muffled all sound, but the footfalls she heard were not the careful ones of a tracker, but rather those of a foot soldier. The voices came next, also muffled by the snow before they became more audible. Emma didn't recognize the language.

Immediately, panic surged through the woman's tired limbs as she dropped the reins and tightened the girth as fast as she could, which caused the mare to sidestep a few times in surprise. Even though her tired, sore body complained when she lifted a leg to the stirrup, Emma managed to heave herself into the saddle, and then leaned forward on the mare's neck and grabbed the reins after grabbing at them uselessly a few times. She urged the tired horse into a sloppy canter, no longer taking care to be silent. Just then, the voices became louder and the steps turned into what could have been a stampede of people. Emma couldn't see them, but these were the people Red feared when she left her many nights ago. As nerves got the better of her, she pushed the mare into a clumsy gallop and stooped herself tight against the horse's neck in order to avoid some of the branches that hung in her way, heavy with snow. Twigs and pine needles whipped at her face and pulled her hair, but still she ran, legitimately scared for the first time in over a week.

She saw them before they saw her. They dressed in mostly white, probably leather or some sort of wool, and they wore tabards that bore a white, simplistic bear's skull on a field of silvery gray. Emma's stiff fingers grappled for the bow tied to her saddle and she wrenched it free, pulled an arrow from the quiver under it and loosed an arrow that found its mark at the base of one man's neck. The blonde felt a pang of guilt as he fell lifeless against his cohort, but right now, she didn't have time for moral conundrums. The next arrow bounced uselessly off a tree and she cursed, but the one that followed stuck itself into another's eye. Now they expected her, and Emma didn't have time to slow her horse when the five that remained dropped to their knees with halberds aimed up at her. She dropped her bow and hauled backwards on the reins, but it was too late. The points missed the gray mare's chest by a breath, but one shredded through the horse's shoulder, while another sliced along the animal's neck. The horse screamed in pain and spooked backwards, slipping, but she maintained her balance and shot off in another direction heedlessly. Now without her bow, Emma pulled her father's sword from its holster tied to the saddle and hefted it in one arm as the mare bolted through trees and branches. By the time the princess saw the rogue footman, it was too late. She wrenched backwards on the bit once more and the mare obeyed immediately, but not before the man's halberd pierced leather like butter and buried itself in Emma's lower ribs on her left side. The force threw her from the saddle and she landed on her back with such force that the air left her lungs and refused to return for agonizing seconds. The mare shrieked, reared, and bolted again, leaving Emma stunned and alone against someone who clearly wanted her dead.

The blonde scrambled to her feet just before the bloodied metal blade hit the snow where she once laid. Emma swung the sword randomly and luckily parried another strike. Pain sent fire through her veins and she pulled herself together long enough to relieve the man of his hand. While incapacitated with surprise, the blonde sent the blade through the man's chest before she had a chance to think on it twice. With a grunt, she removed it and limped in the direction she faced. She shook with nerves and adrenaline as she moved, which kept the pain of the obvious wound in her side and what was probably a sprained ankle minimal enough to concentrate on staying alive. Before she knew it, two more men with halberds and bear skull tabards appeared out of the white world, and after a short fight, she cut them down too. How many did she see initially? She dragged the red-stained tip of her sword through the snow as she continued to stumble along, but the universe answered the question for her. The blade of the halberd clipped her face and left a thin, red line of blood across the top of her cheekbone below her right eye. Emma hissed in pain and threw herself to the side. She caught herself on a tree with her left forearm and raised the sword just in time to block the down-swipe from her attacker. They went on like this until Emma's sword arm shook and ached with exhaustion, and her opponent pressed harder. Spotting an opening, the man swapped ends of his weapon and jabbed the blonde in the sternum with the butt of the halberd hard enough to send her careening and eventually onto her back in the snow. Blindly, she swung her sword up and shuddered as it made contact with something she likened to rotting fruit before it stuck there. She peered up to see the edge of her sword jutting out of the man's temple. He stared down at her blankly for a second before his body fell to the ground at her side, lifeless. The blonde sucked in a much needed breath of icy air and laid there for a minute, utterly exhausted. Somehow, she survived. Once she reacquired a tenuous grasp on the ability to control her limbs, the woman rolled herself onto her stomach and slammed the tip of her sword into the frozen ground to use it as a level to pull herself onto her feet. Coming down from the high fueled by terror and the primal need to stay alive meant she felt every single ache in her body. She could hardly feel her feet or her hands from the cold, her cheek stung, her ankle ached… and all that paled in comparison to the agony caused by the hole in her side. Right hand still curled tightly around the end of her sword, Emma touched the wound with her free hand and whimpered involuntarily. She stared at the wound and her now blood-covered hand. Red soaked her left side and extend midway down her thigh, and the pain only increased with each passing second. Lips parted, the woman's eyes lifted as she searched the world of white and gray and black for signs of her mare. She needed to get the hell out of here.

The princess turned around, only to be met with a sharp, intense pain at the junction of her left shoulder. She staggered backwards with a cry and gaped at the arrow that now protruded from the spot. Another chased it, landing closer to her heart. Tears blurred her vision as she stared helplessly at the shafts. White-feather fletched shafts. Her arrows. Beyond the mocking white feathers, she saw the final footman. She'd miscounted by one. He stood perhaps twenty feet in front of her, arrow notched and ready to end this struggle. Emma's head swam with thoughts just then. How easy it would be to just let go, she thought, to let that last arrow hit its mark. She figured she would fall backwards and if that arrow didn't kill her, the man would hopefully put her out of her misery before she bled to death, cold and alone. Dying wouldn't be so bad. She thought about Boston, about Storybrooke, about Henry… The curse broke and they returned to the land of fairy tales. She became a stranger in her own home, or so it felt for a while. She thought of her parents, of Regina, the woman everyone hated and now tentatively trusted. A hot tear rolled down her cheek as she looked through the man holding her bow. Her thoughts landed on Red. No, she had to get through this. Her family needed her, every one of them. As her assailant drew the bowstring taught, Emma screamed and ripped the sword's tip from the ground. In one practiced motion, she arced the blade over her head and hurled it two-handed at her attacker with every ounce of her remaining strength, the momentum of which sent her sailing head first into the ground. The arrows snapped and the shafts bit deeper into her flesh on impact, but the muffled cry and final gurgle told her the sword hit her target before he could loose the arrow. For a long time, Emma simply laid there, both too afraid to get up for fear of another attacker and too utterly spent to force herself to move. Through half closed eyes, she watched snow fall through the mostly bare trees and wondered if she'd every see her family again.

But she lived. So long as no one else lunged at her through the trees, she'd be okay. The princess rolled onto her back and took note of the enormous patch of red in the snow where she landed and closed her eyes with a shuddering sigh. Actually, there was a good chance she wouldn't make it at this point. Try as she may to sit up, her body refused. The hole in her side throbbed powerfully and the two broken arrows embedded in her chest sent jolts of searing pain through her entire body, and all the blonde could manage was a choked sob to the snow-dampened quiet of the forest. At length, she crawled to the man she felled with a well-placed sword and wrenched the blade from his lifeless body. Once again, she used it to drag herself to her feet, but needed both hands wrapped tightly around the handle to bring herself upright. Immediately, she crashed against the nearest tree and clasped a hand to her side, eyes closed. She gathered her bearings for a minute before she willed her feet to move, but her wounds tormented her with each step. Emma didn't know how far she walked before her sword fell from her hands and she dropped against a hollow log, unable to continue. She slouched and pressed her hand against the deep laceration on her side as hard as she dared, and she bit her lip until it bled to muffle the scream that ripped from her throat. Her eyes would hardly focus anymore as awareness slipped into the blackness of caving vision, and because of this, it came as a surprise when a rush of warm air met the exposed skin of her face and neck.

"Oh Emma," the familiar voice cooed. Finally, the princess willed herself to focus and she found herself face-to-face with a familiar brunette. Four deep claw marks and a bruise atop one of her cheekbones marred her pretty face, but her green eyes were clear and currently filled with concern. The blonde's mouth moved wordlessly until she choked out a sob and brought a shaking, bloody hand to the woman's face. Her fingers left smudges of her own blood on the woman's face, but the other didn't seem to mind. The speaker curled her long fingers around Emma's hand for a moment, and then took the blonde's face in her own hands. Red's fingertips felt like divine fire against her skin, her very presence like summer sun in this frozen hell. The brunette wiped away stray tears as fast as they fell, and then leaned back to inspect the damage.

"Gods you are cold," the woman whispered to herself before her hands left Emma's face. In response, the blonde whimpered at the loss of contact and tried to follow where her lover's hands moved, but the strength to hold her head up waned before she could find them. Red tugged Emma's gray cloak tighter around her and then knelt over her legs to place a lingering kiss on her forehead.

"You stay alive, Emma Swan," she commanded, "Don't you dare die before I come back." Red rocked back onto her feet to stand and Emma keened, terrified suddenly.

"D-don't leave," she begged, voice hoarse from disuse, and one hand extended weakly towards the brunette before it dropped limply onto her lap. The familiar woman melted into a blurry mass of dark brown and sprinted away soundlessly through the snow. The last thing Emma remembered before the dark took her was cold and silence that screamed.


	3. Fever Dreams

Emma awoke with a start and made to sit up, but fear kept her still after the initial impulse faded. Eyes wide and heart pounding, she surveyed her surroundings with a mixture of curiosity and anxiety, unsure how she arrived there. The last thing she knew was icy cold and agony, and so this… this was a change. Once sure nothing intended to maul her, the blonde sat up and ran her fingers through her hair. She sat in an old-growth forest with trees whose trunks she couldn't wrap her arms around without the help of at least four people. Birds chirped overhead and she thought she saw a doe wander through the thick, green underbrush. The blonde exhaled a deep breath as she gathered her hair over one shoulder and tried to stand. The ground felt cool but damp and the air thick with humidity, and had she not just spend a terribly long time in sub-zero temperatures, she would have had the nerve to be irritated. Though nature seemed to be abuzz with life, the woman couldn't find anything she actually recognized. Sweat beaded on her forehead and dripped down her back, which made the leather and wool she wore feel oppressive and tight. Gods, where was she?

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a flash of red, and the blond whirled towards it swiftly, but it disappeared quickly. Hope surged through her veins as she jogged towards where she saw the bright color in the sea of green and dark brown, but her heart sank when she found nothing. Red. Emma saw the woman last while she bled out against a log in the snow. Red left her there. An uncomfortable mixture of terror, anger, and longing boiled in her stomach at the thought. Terror because she was dying and confused and wanted nothing more than to have someone hold her and tell her she would be okay. Anger because the brunette _left_ her there, cold and scared and alone. Longing because she wanted nothing more than to bury her face in the side of the woman's neck and inhale her scent and shut out the world. Emma felt her eyes burn with tears as she slumped against a tree, defeated. She wanted to go home to her family. With a soft moan, she rubbed her eyes with the heels of her palms and then stared blankly around the forest.

She saw it again. Just there. Not about to lose it this time, the blonde threw herself to her feet clumsily and raced to where she saw that flash of red. Emma caught her foot on a root but managed to keep her balance just barely as she rounded one of the goliath trees to find nothing. Well this was infuriating. She walked further around the tree and suddenly found herself facing the woman she so desperately wanted to see. Brown curls spilled over the red cloak that draped the woman's shoulders and she smiled at the blonde, who reacted by crashing into her arms and sobbing.

"Stop l-leaving me," Emma begged as her hands tightly grasped the other woman's upper arms. Red cupped the sides of the blonde's face with her hands and kissed her gently without so much as a word in reply. The shorter woman laughed quietly into her mouth and tugged on the brunette's hair gently, just to hold onto something, to be sure this wasn't a dream. However, Red's lips turned icy and the kiss broke a second later. When they parted, two white-fletched arrows protruded from the taller woman's chest in mirror of the wounds Emma sustained in the snow-covered forest. Swan feathers. Emma felt her heart leap into her throat. The wolf-woman's lips moved soundlessly and she gave Emma a pained, sad look before her green eyes rolled up and she collapsed. Horrified, the princess moved to catch her, but ice burst from the arrows and sapped all the warmth from her lover. A scream ripped from her throat as the ice rippled from the woman's fallen body and across the forest floor, freezing and destroying everything it touched until it returned Emma to the forest where she lay dying. It was an out of body type experience, where the blonde saw herself motionless against that log, bloody and defeated. Over the log, her mother appeared, and before the princess's eyes, the dark haired woman's face and body marred with sword wounds. Her father appeared next and burns licked across his skin, following the pattern of the invisible flames that consumed his body. Emma charged at them, but they too crumbled and froze on the icy underbrush before she could reach them. Everything spun and Emma tripped and sailed towards the snow beneath her.

"Emma!" The blonde awoke with a start and tried to sit up, but every bone in her body protested and she sunk to something soft instantly. Her eyes opened and she blinked slowly against the dim light of the cabin. Whose cabin? Part of her told her to be afraid and to look for a weapon, but the logical (and exhausted) part of her said she was warm and alive and not in a prison, and so she was safe. It took her a minute to trust this fully, but a familiar face rewarded her patience. He leaned over her with a look of concern on his face, but it faded as he saw the princess open her eyes.

"There you are," he said with a characteristic puppy-dog half-smile. The huntsman grabbed a hand-carved wooden chair and placed it next to the bed with the back to it, and then sat on it backwards and rested his forearms along the top. He placed his head on his arms and chuckled, regarding her lazily. "'Bout time you showed up," he added. Relief flooded Emma's body instantly. She was well and truly safe.

"I called you Graham, once," she remarked softly after a lengthy silence as she studied his face. The huntsman nodded once, still grinning a little.

"You still can, if that makes you feel better," he said. The blonde managed a half smile and huffed as she stared at the ceiling. A thought struck her and she suddenly started to panic all over again. The nightmare flooded her senses and she forced herself upright despite the agony that shot through every inch of her body. Two arrows, swan feathers, cold.

"Red, where's Red?" she demanded, voice strained. The man shushed her and forced her back to the bed with a strong hand on her shoulder. He motioned to the end of the bed with his other hand, and Emma peered towards her feet to see a large, dark brown wolf curled next to her legs. Her head faced the top of the bed, ears relaxed and eyes closed. Emma noted the scrapes across her face in the same place as those she saw on the human. She saw further cuts through the thick fur, and it stuck up in places where she took particularly hard hits. Emma frowned and made to reach for the animal's nose, but her hand relaxed when she realized the wolf didn't lay within her reach.

"She wouldn't leave your side, and the bed's obviously too small to fit both of you," the man explained, "She hardly moves."

"Is the okay, though?"

"Just fine. You know her. Takes a lot more than some guys with sharp things to knock her down." The huntsman chuckled and shook his head before he stood from the chair. Emma's eyes followed him as he walked across the one-room cabin to the fireplace and poked a kettle over the fire with the toe of his boot. It moved lethargically, a sign that something stewed in it.

"Hungry?" he asked.

"…Yeah, actually," Emma answered after a second's thought. As carefully as she could manage, she pushed herself into a seated position, but the intense pain that shot through the left side of her chest and her left arm forced a whimper from her lips. She immediately took weight off the arm and tucked it against her stomach. The huntsman cast her a glance through the corner of his eyes as he scooped something from the kettle into a little wooden bowl.

"You won't be able to use that arm for a long time," he said gravely, "Or really, you won't be able to do any sort of intense activities for a while, not with your side like that." He returned to her side and handed her the bowl carefully, and then settled onto the chair again, resuming the same position he took earlier. The blonde peered into the bowl and sighed. Soup. She took a sip and eyed the man in the chair who watched her expectantly. It wasn't the best meal she'd ever eaten, but after consuming cold, charred rabbit and air for the past week or so, she couldn't complain. Minutes passed in silence as Emma finished the soup and handed the bowl to the man, who simply placed it on the floor. Now able to reach the sleeping wolf at the end of the bed, Emma brushed her fingertips over the animal's muzzle. She leaned forward a little more, doing her best to ignore the way her side protested, and stroked between the wolf's ears until she saw a pair of gold eyes staring back at her. Emma grinned, and instantly the wolf tossed herself onto the floor and grew into a tall brunette in a shimmer of gold light.

The huntsman leaned out of the way as Red threw her arms around the blonde and buried her face in her neck. Emma hissed and winced, but returned the gesture the best she could with an aching body. After a few seconds, the two parted reluctantly, and both Red and the huntsman decided it best to make Emma lay down again. (Emma protested, of course. _I am not a child!_ she'd said. Both ignored her.) Once settled, the brunette shifted to a wolf again and hopped onto the bed to resume her position next to Emma's legs. After she paced a few circles, the canine flopped onto the mattress with a huff and placed her head on one of the blonde's calves. Her eyes closed and sleep quickly took her, once again leaving the princess and the huntsman in silence.

"How long was I out?" Emma asked at length. The man ran his fingers through his hair and arched his eyebrows in thought.

"Four days, almost," he answered, and then nodded to himself as he recalled the number correctly.

"…What's happening?" The blonde was almost afraid to know the answer, but this was important. Right now, her knowledge of the situation said someone burned the kingdom and soldiers in white who sported a bear's skull sigil tromped through the forest. Emma's blue eyes widened and she moved to sit again, concerned, but the man waved a hand to silence her before she made a sound.

"It's enchanted. You can't find this cabin unless you know where it is," he said in answer to her unspoken worry. Satisfied, the blonde nodded and relaxed as she awaited answer to her initial question. "She's called the White Witch, hails from far north. Charn, I think Regina called it. The curse in Storybrooke harmed her in some way, and now that she's regained her full power, she's exacting her revenge," he explained. Emma digested this silently, brow furrowed and gaze on the ceiling. Charn, White Witch.

"Wait, Regina? Is she-"

"I dunno, Em," he said with a shrug, "When they sacked the castle, Regina came here, said you were out here somewhere fucking your girlfriend." A sly grin passed his lips momentarily and Emma scowled. Regina _would_ be so blunt in a situation that demanded seriousness. The huntsman continued before the princess had a chance to reprimand him for his words or complain about the sorceress-queen. "I haven't heard from her since then, though." It was his turn to crease his brow. "Something must have happened or the northern forces wouldn't be roaming through here so easily."

The fact that someone possessed the power to capture-or worse, _kill_-Regina worried her. Since the end of the curse and the truce called between Snow White and her step-mother, people began to soften their views towards Regina. It was difficult at first, but the woman wasn't her mother, and people realized she could use her power to help rather than hurt. She wove magic like a knight wielded a sword. Downing her wouldn't have been easy.

"My parents? The dwarves? The _fairies_?"

"Nothing. I don't know, Emma, I don't." He sounded exasperated for the first time, and the blonde frowned. He was just as worried as her; fear of the unknown did nothing for one's nerves.

"So… what do we do," Emma asked softly. The man she called Graham regarded her seriously for a long time, mouth on his hands that clutched the top of the chair where he sat.

"You have to get out," he answered solemnly. The princess carefully rolled onto her side and stared at him, incredulous. She couldn't run!

"Graham!" she hissed, using the familiar name, "My parents could be dead and you're telling me to get out? To just leave them?" She felt her voice raise before she heard it and quickly silenced herself after she glanced at the wolf sleeping near her feet. The animal still dozed peacefully, and so the woman's light eyes returned to the huntsman's.

"Yes."

"Gods be damned, you want me to just forget this even happened? I'm not a coward!" she barked. This time, one of the wolf's ears flicked and she shifted in her sleep, her subconscious aware of the impending argument. The man suddenly stood and swung the chair out of the way with a startling display of power. He pressed the blonde to the bed and put his face inches from her to force her to stare into his eyes. Taken aback, Emma's lips parted as a surprised squeak left them.

"Emma Swan, you listen to me," he growled, "You and Red are in no position to go marching into this outmanned Gods-know-how-many to one. You are injured and emotionally strained. Your allies are scattered or dead. I am telling you to _do the brave thing_ and live instead of running down there to die like some sort of fucking hero," he continued. Emma couldn't argue, just stare. She searched his eyes until he released her with a bear-like noise that came from somewhere deep in his chest. The tall man stalked across the room to the fireplace and folded his arms as he watched the small flames curl around the charred logs within.

"You'll leave in three days," he said softly, "Once you're strong enough to sit a horse. You and Red will head south and stay there."

"For how long?" Emma asked while she regarded the wooden wall on the other side of the room. She didn't particularly want another argument.

"As long as it takes." The huntsman grabbed a coat lined with fur, a light gray cloak, and left without another word. For her entire life, Emma Swan ran from her problems until all that running landed her in Storybrooke. Even there she tried to flee every time a challenge arose, but she overcame it eventually. Now that mindset entrenched itself into her thought process, and so the thought of running again didn't sit quite right. He asked her to leave almost all her family and her new life, and for what? For how long? _As long as it takes._ Emma sighed and rolled onto her back. After she allowed thoughts to race through her head for long enough, she succumbed to sleep.

Again, the white-fletched arrows stuck themselves in the brunette's chest and Emma howled, helpless as she watched them freeze the woman and everything she ever loved in this world until it all died. White swan feathers. This was her fault, all her fault. Powerless, the blonde simply screamed as she shook the woman's cold, lifeless body. _Wake up, wake up, wake up!_ _You're leaving me again! You're leaving me alone and it's my fault!_ _Wake up!_

And she did. Emma collided with wakefulness violently, shaking and crying and covered in a cold sweat. In the fury of the nightmare, she must have kicked the wolf, who now stood on the floor near the blonde's head. A second later, the dull shimmer revealed the tall brunette, and Emma reached for her with both arms as sobs wracked her entire body. Red sat on the edge of the bed and wrapped her arms gently around the princess so as not to hurt her further, but the blonde was beyond caring. She clutched her lover's torso with every ounce of strength she could muster, even though it drew an involuntary shriek of pain as the movement disturbed the wounds on her left side. She didn't care anymore, even though her body practically begged for stillness to quiet the pain. The brunette made soft, unintelligible comforting noises and rocked Emma gently until the shaking subsided somewhat. Red's skin against the blonde's clammy body felt warm and reassuring, and when some of the tension left Emma's body, she managed to lean away slightly to eye her lover in the dim light.

"P-please don't leave," she implored. Red's eyebrows arched sympathetically as she cupped the side of the other woman's face and brushed away a few tears with her thumb.

"I'm not leaving you, Ems," she said sweetly, and then placed a delicate kiss on the woman's forehead. The blonde tugged on her hand gently.

"Don't leave," she repeated at a whisper.

"It's a little bed, I can't fit here as a human."

"Please." That one word spoken with such hurt and fear shattered the brunette's heart, and without another word, she curled into the small bed with the half-panicked woman. It was true, they hardly fit. Red had to lay on her back and Emma curled up half on top of her just to squeeze onto the tiny mattress, but it instantly put the princess's mind to rest. Her head dropped to Red's chest under her chin and her eyes closed. The wolf-woman draped her arms over the other's torso, mindful of her wounds, and sighed deeply as she allowed herself to drift away as well.


End file.
